A Service of Love
by Andy Longwood
Summary: A series of MerryEowyn drabbles, kept mostly as close to canon as possible.
1. Sunrise

A/N: Here lie all twenty of my Merry/Eowyn ficlets written for the 20Rings community on Neither Merry nor Eowyn nor anything belonging to Tolkien are mine. 

SUNRISE

Merry first sees Éowyn when the sun is rising, and the sight of her is no less than glorious.

A wind is blowing westward and the sun has broken through scattered clouds, and golden light pours across the plains. Long shadows are cast upon the streets and in Éowyn's face also, though the full light of the sun is upon it. Her skin is bright and her hair is like threads of gold still warm from the forges, and the light has made her grey eyes pale.

And for a long moment, Merry cannot move.

He has seen so much beauty in the past year that a woman, even a beautiful one, should not affect him this much, but in that moment, Éowyn is like a second sunrise. A glorious light is within her as without, and it dazzles him as much as the sun.

Merry cannot help but wonder if she sees the sun which she stares at so intensely, for there is distance in her eyes and no joy in her face.

And though he forgets what they say to each other when they finally speak, he remembers a stray thought that made no sense but seemed appropriate at the time;

_Will she die without seeing the sun rise?_


	2. In a Dream

IN A DREAM 

There is no moonlight that night when the army stops for rest. Éowyn and Merry rest beneath a shelf of earth. Éowyn speaks little, and her eyes are dimmed. Merry would attempt to fill the silence, but he has little to say and less that he feels he should.

"I thought I saw you in a dream," he says suddenly, and Éowyn turns to him, grey eyes like steel and stormclouds.

"You would do better to leave me out of your dreams," she says quietly. "Dreams are an idle distraction when one rides to war."

She looks away, and Merry wishes she would not. Something that he doesn't know how to explain stirs inside him when she looks at him, and if he were to try and explain it, he would call it a combination of pity and longing, for he wishes that he could see those eyes shining with merriment and hope, just once.

"I saw you standing beside a battlement of stone, and before you all was darkness."

"We are all before darkness now," Éowyn responds.

"Yet I thought a light like the sun shone behind you," Merry goes on, "and though you faced the shadow there stood a great many people who waited for you to decide whether you would watch the darkness or turn to see them standing in the light . . ."

Éowyn is looking to the east, and Merry swallows before continuing to speak.

"And it seemed that you would never turn, that you would always be seeing the shadow, but as I woke I thought a hand was extended from the light, and you turned until your face was only half-shrouded in darkness . . ."

Éowyn is silent. Merry watches her, and wonders if he has spoken too much.

_I do not believe that this will be your end,_ he wishes to say, but dares not, for Éowyn is looking across the soldiers, and it may be that she is wondering who among them will ever see Rohan again. How many men have kissed their wives for the last time? How many sons have seen their fathers depart, never to return?

How many will die tomorrow who did not set out with that intent?

Éowyn is graven, and she looks to the shadows in the east, and there is moonlight somewhere in the darkness, but Merry can not see it.

"Look for me in your dreams, Master Meriadoc," she says. "Tomorrow, you may find me nowhere else."


	3. Wall

WALL 

Éowyn has made walls around her heart.

Their construction began long ago, when she was young, following the deaths of her mother and father. Theoden broke them, but left the ruins where they lay, and as she watched her uncle and country succumb to Wormtongue's leechcraft they were rebuilt, taller and stronger than before. She thought Aragorn m ight break them; but he broke her heart instead, and Éowyn wonders if he was wrong in doing so, and ending her quest for power through marriage.

And now there is Merry, and she will not let him break them.

Éowyn is aware of how Merry looks at her at night when they stop to rest. Éowyn has far too often been looked upon with longing to be unable to recognize it. She has a feeling he hopes she will feel the same if he cares about her enough. The thought is enough to make Éowyn laugh, or cry. Because wouldn't that be something? To find she has feelings for Merry as she helps him find his way to war, and possibly to a death which he does not seek? She knows her goal – she will die, and she hopes her death will be honorable, but she has gone to end her life in glory. What does Merry want? To fight for his friends? And if he, too, dies, what then? To be one more promising life extinguished in the name of war is his fate. Éowyn has made a mistake in bringing him. She knows that, now.

But at the least, she may keep herself from caring too much about him. The walls around her heart have grown thick and broad, more than enough to keep a hobbit out, however kind and clever and free of guile his manner may be.

Éowyn must not care for Merry. They have chosen their paths, and they do not end happily.


	4. Running

RUNNING

Merry loves it when the horses are running, and the thunder of thousands of hooves surrounds him and shakes the earth. The horse he rides runs smoothly and swiftly and wind is in his helmet and his eyes, and an armored arm is by his side. Inside the concealing armor that has given her the shape of any other man whose horse runs beside them is a woman, an amazing woman, a beautiful woman.

The mountains race by and he has grown accustomed to moving with the horse, and when they run like this, her arm is around his waist and her leg presses up against his, and he wonders what it would be like to hold her waist, to run his hand along her leg and kiss her mouth deeply until he can't tell where Merry ends and Éowyn begins. He's never wanted to touch someone as much as he wants to touch her. She smells of horses and sweet honey and something strange and arousing and frightening that he's only ever smelled on a woman before, and it scares him and excites him all at once. He wishes the horse would never stop running, and not because he is afraid of what will happen when they reach their destination. They are running to their doom, and Merry barely cares, because Éowyn is behind him, and every move she makes thrills him.

The horse is running, and Merry's heart is racing, and they are riding to death; but Merry does not care, for he is more alive than ever at her side. 


	5. Eyes

EYES 

Éowyn likes looking into Merry's eyes. They are simple and guileless, just as he is, and she wonders if her eyes were ever like that.

If they were, it was not for long.

"You have not had an unhappy life, had you?" she asks, as they make camp one night.

"I couldn't say that I have," responds Merry. He is cheerful, but it is nervous – not forced, but edgy, for he knows what they are riding to. He has had days to think about it. He has very few illusions left, but he has them, and they are all that keep him from running back to Rohan.

Éowyn does not say anymore, but thinks to herself.

_If I knew such happiness, I would not be riding to war,_ she thinks, and feels a pang of guilt.

She would send him back – but she has seen his eyes, and though they are happy, they are resolute. To try to send Merry back would be like trying to stop the wind – like trying to stop her. They have gone for reasons of their own. They will not be turned back – not by any look in either one's eyes.


	6. Song

A/N: The song the soldiers sing is heavily based on "Siuil a Run (Walk my Love)" and, to an extent, "Johnny Has Gone For a Soldier," which has very similar lyrics. Either tune will work for it. 

SONG

_Ride, ride, soldier ride,  
By the deep clear waterside,  
Down to where the call is cried,  
On we ride to war._

It is impossible to say which soldier begins the song first, nor who picks it up second, but soon it seems as though the whole army is singing. Merry cannot join in, for he does not know the song, but Éowyn hums quietly behind him as the Army begins to move out on the ride that will take them to Pellanor.

_Cry not, my love, on field or hill,  
For love who's gone from town and mill,  
I have my sword and shield and will  
And on I ride to war._

One clear voice is raised in the tongue of the Rohirrim. Merry realizes it is Éowyn singing, and worries that she may give their position away. But it is too late now to be concerned with secrecy. There is no chance to turn back – not anymore. None that any would be forced to take.

_My shield is bright, my sword is long,  
And for my king I will march on,  
My love, remember when I'm gone,  
Mourn not my ride to war._

_Ride, ride, soldier ride,  
By the deep clear waterside,  
Down to where the call is cried,  
On we ride to war._


End file.
